Silence is golden... until it becomes an uncomfortable silence. Words unspoken for fear of incurring wrath, awkward moments between loved ones that stretch into hours, no more pitter patter of tiny paws and the little unique sounds that they emitted, the emptiness of the empty nest and the friends that used to come round thinking you were the uber-cool parents of their generation.

The golden silence however is a welcome antidote.

My life is rarely silent. Radio 4 goes on as I make my way to caring work ten miles away. I love the Archers but hate politics. My head is never silent as I make my way to a service... have I forgotten anything/did I remember xyz, will it go well, do I know the way (as my sat nav has decided to work only once then as it turns itself off and never works again – I think it's half given up and I know how that feels. The will is there but the mechanics have rendered themselves obsolete as it keeps reminding me it is over 36 months old etc)... or to a family meeting (what will they be like, will I be able to get the information I need, will it go well, am I going the right way...) On a walk to the woods, I can hear doves coo-ing, the wind blowing softly in the trees, the brash caw-caw of the rooks nesting in the trees, the peeps of the baby seagulls as they hassle their parents who make double the noise in the early morning (but I wear ear plugs so all is practically silent). That's the only time I have complete and utter silence when I'm asleep.

When I'm at my most comfortable with life and myself, I love the almost-silence... to be able to read a good book or concentrate on a nice DVD or do an electronic jigsaw puzzle with all of the fun, applause when you finish it and no mess to clear up or missing bits frustrating the hell out of me!

But I wish I could silence my mind. That is the next step. I've got a lot in it at the moment. Wishes, hopes and dreams. Frustrations. Friendships that aren't quite what I thought they were. Bereavement. Dusty bloody furniture everywhere. I'm tempted to leave it just so I can write something in it... like clean me you lazy xxxx. But I know I'm not lazy. I'm an empath. Which means I soak up a lot of other people's moods and emotions as well as my own. I care professionally and I care personally. But it doesn't always do you favours as you have to keep a bit of yourself back for your own sanity. All carers whether it's for a loved one or professionally know this although I imagine it's doubly hard if it's your loved one as the guilt factor is upped so much.

How do you feel about silence? Do you wish you had more or less of it? What is it like for you? Any good tips on mind silencing most welcome (I am planning to try meditation at some point)...

Liz

A Moodscope member.